The Fall
by Morsly
Summary: "We buried our love in the wintery grave." -DCFC. What if Blair hadn't been able to get Chuck down from the edge of that building in s2? How would CB have delt with their feelings if Chuck was recovering from a near fatal accident? Semi-AU. Some good old CB angst. *Chuck does not die!
1. Chapter 1

AN: And here is the first chapter of my angsty fic. Each chapter will start with a lyric from a song we all know way too well to be healthy. At least, I hope so. It would stink if I started this fic with song lyrics no one remembers... All I will say is that this will be a sad story. Because, truthfully, what is the CB we know and love without a tragedy? So without further ado, I give you The Fall.

_**There was little we could say, and even less we could do to stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you.**_

"_The man found brutally injured at the bottom of one of the newly deceased Bart Bass's building has been confirmed as no other than Bass's son, Charles Bass. The younger Bass reportedly fell or jumped off the top of the building. Paramedics have taken him to an undisclosed hospital where he is in critical condition. We will be updating you regularly on this tragi-"_

Blair turned off the television in her room. _She_ had to call 911 when he slipped off the edge of the building, but she didn't even remember speaking to anyone, let alone dialing. All she remembered was that his almost empty bottle of scotch hit the ground before he did. She remembered hearing the sickening crack before the even more sickening thud.

Jack had fled as soon as it happened. He was probably in a hotel locked up waiting for the call to tell him he was the new head of Bass Industries. The thought was disgusting to Blair. Even more disgusting, the thought of what would happen to Chuck in order for Jack to step in.

She left as soon as the ambulance arrived. She just couldn't bring herself to look at the man she swore she loved with the thought that she would never be able to truly love him. Blair had been sitting on the floor leaned up against the foot of her bed for hours now, waiting for the news channels to finally say it. To say what she didn't have the nerve to admit. That maybe he jumped.

Blair's alarm went off, and she stood up with a start. She had to go to school today. There was an exam in British Literature to take, lunch with the minions to sit through, Serena's boy troubles to mediate, sexy eyes to make with Ch-

She stopped her mental list there, and turned to her bathroom to start a shower.

Dorota walked in with Nyquil in hand, "Ms. Blair, you don't go to school today. You stay home, sleep, be on standby for Mr. Chuck."

"How could I sleep Dorota?!" Blair practically yelled, turning on her heel away from the en suite. She had been holding it in all night. "Knowing that I wasn't enough to get him to come down from that stupid ledge!"

Dorota poured a dose of cold medicine. "Take it and go to sleep, Ms. Blair. You feel better when you wake. We go visit Mr. Chuck when you wake."

Tears started to fall down her face. Blair wordlessly took the medicine and climbed into bed. She was out almost instantly and Dorota went to turn off the shower.

She was awoken 5 hours later by a gentle whisper. "Ms. Blair, Lily Bass is on phone for you."

Blair grumbled and rolled over. "Why..." Reality hit her like a ton of bricks, and she snatched the phone from Dorota's hand. The maid excused herself.

"Hello?"

"Blair, darling, it's so good to hear from you."

Blair stayed silent, so Lilly continued.

"I just wanted to update you on Charles's condition. He's in surgery. It's his spine. It was broken in the fall. The doctor said it looked like he was going to live, but he couldn't guarantee the quality of life he would be living" Lilly's voice broke. "He may never walk again."

At that, Blair was done. She hung up the phone and raced to the toilet where she threw up what was left in her stomach. She stood up and looked into the mirror. Her eye make up had giver her racoon eyes, and her hair laid flat on her face. "At least he'll live." She spoke to herself. The thought of Chuck living in a wheelchair did little to comfort her, though. Not to mention that he would be in a wheelchair because he didn't love her enough to come down from that _damn ledge._

Blair went to turn on the shower. She stripped as she waited for the water to become unbearably hot. She stepped under the stream and slumped onto the tiled floor where she cried some more and threw up again.

When she got out of the shower, she dried off and put on her favorite velvet robe. Blair climbed back under her covers once more.

"B," Blair felt someone brushing the hair off her face. "Blair," She opened her eyes. "Hey," Serena whispered. Blair rolled over.

"Are you okay?" The blonde asked.

"Why would I not be okay?" Blair mumbled.

"Because Chuck almost died!" She took a deep breath. "I came to update you... And comfort you."

"I don't need comforting. Why would I care whether he lived or died?"

"He woke up. He's asking for you."

Blair turned back over with tears in her eyes. "He is?"

"Yeah. He's going to make a full recovery, B. He'll be able to walk and everything."

Blair nodded. "So can we get you out of this bed to go see him?"

"I thought only family was allowed."

"You're Blair Waldorf. You are his family."

AN: Well.. what do you think? Shall I continue? This chapter was a little short, and they will be longer in the future if you want me to continue. II would very much like to hear what you have to say. Unfortunately for me, I'm home alone on a Friday night, so fortunately for you, I just might update Picture Perfect tonight as well. Unrelatedly, if you wish for me to be in your life further, my main Tumblr is .com , my personal Tumblr (the one where I post about CB) is .com (and no, I'm NOT a republican, but I do generally like republicans) , and my twitter is MollyJGray. I hope everyone has a lovely weekend! xoxo

P.S. I would love to have someone who will read through and edit my fics before I publish them. I suck at proofing and the like. PM me if you're interested in the job! xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

AN: It's a New Years Eve miracle! I'm writing a chapter before the sun goes down. Alert the presses. Since I have nothing to do tonight, I'm going to make this chapter perfect, and it probably won't be published until the sun goes down... Oh well, here we go!

_**And if it pleases you to leave me, just go. Stopping would stifle your enchanting ghost.**_

_-Enchanting Ghost, Sufjan Stevens_

Blair had been sitting in the hallway outside of Chuck's hospital room for over an hour. When she and Serena arrived, a nurse informed them that he was asleep, but they were free to wait in his room. Serena had gone downstairs to get a coffee with Humphrey and to give Blair alone time with Chuck, even though he was unconscious. She just couldn't bring herself to walk in.

She had a nurse bring her a chair, and now she sat with her head against the window to his room, not even having the strength to look at him. Serena told her it wasn't as bad as you would expect. His entire torso was in a brace. His left arm was in a cast, and there were scratches and bruises on most of his body. It was covered, though, by a hospital gown, blankets, and his favorite grey wool cardigan. He had a small cut on his right cheekbone, but other than that, his face was untouched. As were his hands, Serena told Blair. His hands were still perfect. Pale, strong and soft.

Blair knew Serena memorized all this just for her. So there would be no surprises when Blair did walk in. So she could be calm. So she could handle it. But she couldn't handle it. She loves him.

And he jumped off a building.

She made herself vulnerable, and he couldn't take it.

She tried to help him, and he couldn't even help himself.

"I did this to him. I made him jump." Blair mumbled to herself as the silent tears started to fall into her cheeks.

Serena came out of the elevator and walked towards her best friend. "B," she held out a cup of coffee. "Sorry it took me so long. Dan and my mom-"

'It's fine." Blair interjected. She took a sip of the coffee. Cold.

"Have you gone in? Did they put him under again? I hope he doesn't become a morphine addict." Serena smiled.

Blair tried to copy the expression, but it was hollow. "No, he hasn't woken up yet."

"I can see your headband from here, Waldorf."

Blair closed her eyes, and felt a shiver run down her spine. When she opened, Serena was giving her an expectant look. Blair picked up her purse and coat and turned into the room.

He was just as Serena described. A beautiful broken body surrounded by a sterile plastic environment. The room was too warm, and it smelled of bleach and medicine. His bed was in the middle, connecting to all sorts of machines. _He _was connected to the machines. On a bedside table sat vases upon vases of flowers. Yellow roses, dominating the bunch. She knew those were Bart's favorites. She did spot one bouquet of light pink peonies, and she knew Dorota had sent them in her name.

She tried not to look at his face, as she sat down in the chair that had been pulled up to his bed.

His hands. His perfect hands. She just had to keep her eyes on his hands, and she wouldn't cry. She folded hers neatly on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to talk.

She heard him sigh and felt his soft, strong hand, cover both of hers. A jolt of electricity ran through her at his touch. She felt his thumb rubbing in circles on the back of her hand. She could feel her head getting lighter even at this small and innocent gesture.

"I'm going to be okay, Blair." he spoke gently.

'I won't look up. I won't look up' she thought to herself.

"And I need to tell you,"

She held her breath.

"I didn't jump."

She felt her heart stop.

"I slipped. I was trying to get down because,"

He paused, and she felt blood leave her head.

"I love you, Blair."

She looked up. His almost golden hazel eyes penetrated her soul. Those beautiful eyes, rimmed by long dark lashes, set on the most beautiful face she had ever seen. His perfect mouth was pale and pursed.

She felt it. She felt is so strongly, so surly. She was more sure of it than anything else she had ever experienced.

She stood up, but held onto his hand harder. There were tears in her eyes.

"Morphine," she choked. "There are a lot of drugs in you right now." She picked up her bag and coat, walking out of the room, unable to see the utterly broken expression on his face.

"Blair!" Serena called after her, but she kept walking. She pressed the button for the elevator, but it wasn't coming fast enough. She stepped inside, followed by an out of breath Serena.

"What happened?" Serena urged, grabbing the top of Blair's arms to look her straight in the eye.

"He told me he loved me." The tears were coming faster now.

"That's great! Don't you love him too?"

"Too much," She sobbed collapsing against Serena. "I don't know what to do. It consumes me."

"It's going to be okay, B." Serena spoke, stroking her best friend's hair. "Let's just get you home."

The elevator opened, and the girls walked hand in hand outside. Serena hailed a cab and texted her mom to bring over Laduree macarons and all of her Hepburn movies. They were going to figure out this dark and twisted love story, and Serena was planning on staying up all night if necessary to do so.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Chuck called in a nurse. The only way he was going to Blair off his mind, was through a drug induced sleep. That, he was sure of. But he was also sure that he loved her. He was trying to get back down off that ledge because he loved her _so damn much._

That, he was sure of.

AN: That was uplifting... I promise, it will get happier. Happy New Year! I'll write again in 2012 :) xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Oh, look! It's 12:14, and I'm writing a chapter! My laptop should be confiscated at a certain time or something. I go back to school in 2 days, but my sleep patterns are so f-ed up that I'm going to be a zombie. Anyways, here is the next chapter of The Fall. This is going to be a filler, and the drama will resume next chapter. Here we go...

"You know, B, you never told me the entire story..."

Blair and Serena were watching the credits of _Sabrina_ on the floor of Blair's room. There was an empty box of Laduree macarons between them, and they each had a mug of green tea at their sides.

"The story of what?"

"Of how you and Chuck... you know. And everything else after that."

"The story of how Chuck and I fell into this dark and twisted pit of torture?"

"Jane Austen would call it love."

"Jane Austen would call a home for the insane. Truman Capote might call it love."

Serena sighed, "Look, B, I'm here right now because Chuck told you he loved you, and you ran away into an elevator where you fainted because you claim to love him too much."

"I did not faint!" Blair objected.

Serena rolled her eyes. "Fair enough. All I'm trying to say is that we need to figure this out. I want to start by hearing the story. _All _of the story."

"Are you sure you want to hear it? I don't think I can tell it properly without including some of the steam-"

Serena squeezed her eyes shut and interjected. "It's fine, B. Just go"

Blair sighed. "I've always admired him. His candidness. How proud of his sexuality he was."

Serena made a face. Blair rolled her eyes and continued. "I wanted Nate to want me like Chuck wanted every girl he slept with. Chuck wanted some escort more than Nate wanted _me_, S! I had just broken up with Nate, and the only place I could think of to go was Victrola. If anything, a glass of champagne would help numb the pain, but subconsciously, I knew Chuck's perverse remarks would help to calm me down. It's just flattery, really, his jabs.

"I watched Chuck's face the entire time we were there. He was watching the dancers. He was _wanting_ the dancers. I wanted to be wanted. So I told him I had moves."

"B!"

"Oh, come on, Serena. I learned all I know from you."

That shut the blond up, so Blair carried on. "He challenged me, and, like always, I fought back at his provocative comments. It's just this time, fighting back meant stripping."

Serena's eyes widened, but she stayed silent. "You should have seen the way he looked at me, S!"

"Like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen? Like there was nothing else on his mind but you?" Serena inquired, thinking about her own experience from that particular night.

"Exactly! No one had ever looked at me like that, and he didn't stop for the entire night! When he asked me if I needed a ride, how could I say no?"

Serena looked sympathetically at her best friend. "We got in his limo, and I kissed him. He asked me if I was sure."

"Chuck Bass asking a girl's permission?!"

"He's not _completely _a villain..."

"I believe you. Continue."

"He was so gentle, and his body fit perfectly against mine. I had never felt so much... He asked me again if I was sure... He said my name when it happened... I cried a little after, and he held me... I know he would have stayed like that all night if I hadn't asked him to take me home. The next day I tried to wrap my head around it. I told myself he treats every girl like that, and I belong with Nate. None of which are true, I know now."

"And then you're birthday?"

"He told me he felt butterflies. I told him to murder them, and then we made that _stupid _bet."

"That if Nate didn't call by midnight, you would be his for the evening?"

"You guessed it. Except when he came into that bedroom, he wasn't wearing a smirk, and he wasn't there to gloat. He had that _damn _look in his eyes, and he gave me the Erickson Beamon necklace."

"I thought Eleanor got that for you..."

"Nope, it was Chuck Bass. He was there for comfort and because he cared, but also because he wanted me. The feeling of being wanted was more comforting than anything. That night, I did fall asleep in his arms, but I woke up in the middle of the night and left."

"So between Thanksgiving and cotillion wasn't meaningless sex?"

"I thought it was. The butterflies were there the entire time, though. It wasn't until he stood me up in Tuscany that the butterflies turned into blocks of lead."

"Blocks of lead?"

"My stomach drops 10,000 feet whenever he touches me. Or I look at him. Or I think of us not being together. He's killing me, S."

"Then why are we still here?! Why can't you tell him this? You obviously love him! In some twisted turn of events, Chuck Bass loves you too. Let's go see him."

"It's not that simple! The thought of us together is scary. We'll destroy each other through our games."

"You love him, B. Your love is pure and simple. You are him are dark and selfish and a little bit frightening, but your love is simple. No matter how horrible you both are to each other, the love won't go away."

"Do you really believe that?"

"With all my heart. Would it be too cliche for me to say I think you two are soulmates?"

Blair smiled at her friend. "No, I think it's just what I needed to hear."

Serena pulled Blair into a hug and frowned. "But, B?"

"Yes?"

"Let's get you showered first. You smell like almond flour and hospital."

Blair giggled and unwrapped herself from Serena's embrace. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad.

AN: Ahhh, fillers... I hope you enjoyed this one! It's not my finest work, but yolo. I'm sorry to say that the next chapter will have a lot more angst and drama. I'M STILL DESPERATELY SEEKING A BETA! Please PM me if you want the job. I loves you guys 8 much (that's 4x more than too much) :P xoxo

P.S. I'm super proud of my Austen-Capote line. If I could get some love for that, my day would be made.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Oh, look. It's me! The girl that should be writing position papers that are due in one day! I can't help it if writing CB is way more interesting than writing about what Yemen thinks of cyber terrorism. Side note: I have been Yemen for the past 3 model UN conferences I've been to. I mean, I love reppin' the poorest country in the Middle East, but 3 times?! That's a little excessive. You know what's not excessive? The love Chuck and Blair share for each other. I know, I need to shut up now. Here we go...

P.S. I'm going to steal a John Green line. **Disclaimer:** John Green wrote it. I did not come up with it on my own.

...

Blair studied her reflection in the mirror of her en suite. Each hair on her head was impeccably placed by a violet satin headband. Her were eyes dark, outlined by long black lashes, and her skin was a porcelain pale. She saw that her lipstick, a subtle blush, was applied thicker on her bottom lip. She wondered if he would notice.

Of course he would. He noticed when her headband was giving her a headache behind her ears, but that she was too proud and too much a lady to take it off. He noticed when her collar bones stuck out too far during her sophomore year, and that she would excuse herself to the restroom after every meal to 'touch up her makeup'. He always noticed.

He would signal it subtly. Discreetly hand her aspirin with her drink. Remind Nate when an important anniversary was coming up because Blair was worried he wouldn't remember. He would keep her at the table after meals, until it would be too late for her to binge. He was the drunk. The womanizer. The always high-but-would-never-actually-smell-like-hash. Unlike Nate. He was all of these things, yet he noticed. In between shots, and whores, and joints. He noticed.

So he would notice tonight. When she was so nervous about seeing him, that she forgot to blot the excess Frou by Mac off her bottom lip. He would notice that the belt around her waist was one notch too tight, so she could control her breathing even though he knew shallow breaths did little to calm her down. He would notice. He always did.

She took a deep breath, or as deep as was allowed in her belted dress, and turned on her heel to walk out of the bathroom. Serena was sitting on the bed waiting for her.

"You look beautiful, B." She got up to hug her best friend. "Now let's go before you chicken out!"

"I'm not going to talk the entire way there."

"Saving your voice? I hope you're not planning on singing to him."

Blair smiled. "I'm just trying not to throw up."

…

The fluorescent lights of the hospital were dimmed, giving the place an almost forced peacefulness. There was nothing peaceful about this place, though. This place where people came to die. This place where Blair had died a little bit, only 11 hours prior.

The girls walked out of the elevator and approached the nurses station. She glared at them, but pointed to Chuck's room.

"_Don't_ wake him." She whisper-warned as the girls started down the hall.

"I'll wait out here, Blair." Serena hugged her friend once more before watching her walk inside.

Chuck was a peaceful sleeper, but he did not look comfortable, restrained by the brace that held his spine together. He had his non-casted elbow over his eyes, and he was breathing lightly. Blair had to strain her ears to make sure he was. That's when she noticed it. He was sleeping with a lamp on. To keep the demons away, or... dare she think of it... to wait for her.

Blair pulled up a chair to his bedside. She gently lifted his arm away from his face to place it by his side. He turned his head toward her. The circles under his eyes were dark, made even more apparent by his long lashes casting dramatic shadows on them. His hair was disheveled, and the his lack of having shaved was creeping along his jawline. He looked well beyond his years, while simultaneously looking like the most vulnerable child.

Blair laced her fingers with those of the hand she had placed by his side. They stayed like that for a while. Chuck didn't stir as Blair traced circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. Those perfect hands. Even while belonging to a sleeping Chuck, they filled her with a sense of security and belonging she could find nowhere else.

He awoke like she had fallen in love with him, slowly then all at once. His eyes opened quietly, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he saw whose fingers his were laced with his. He slowly pulled her hand to his lips. Their flesh was just about to touch again, when he froze. His sleepy eyes turned hard, and he dropped her hand. He remembered.

"What are you doing here?" He spoke, his voice full of fatigue and hurt.

"Chuck... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ran out earlier and blamed your declaration on drugs. I ran out when you said it because... I love you. I didn't know what to do with it all. There is so much there. It's been eating me from the inside out. My butterflies have turned into a brick in my stomach, and it only ever goes away when I'm with you. I love you so much it hurts."

He turned his head away from her, and she felt her tears start to fall.

"Xanax." He spoke.

"Chuck, please." Her tears were coming faster.

"You're still on Xanax."

"Don't do this." A sob escaped her chest.

"Must be the drugs." He said in a barely audible whisper.

She was a mess. She turned to leave his room, but not before she saw a single tear fall from the corner of his eye.

Her belt was on too tight. He noticed. Her voice held a tone he had never heard before. Absolute sincerity. He noticed. She had a hangnail on her right thumb. He noticed. Her eyes shown with her feelings, and she walked with a perfected grace that he knew she had practiced in the mirror for years. She was the most devastatingly beautiful creature he had ever seen. She made his heart feel like it had been rubbed raw by the coarsest sandpaper.

He loved her.

But he could never make her happy.

…

AN: How was that for uplifting! I really don't have much to say except that it hurt me to write. God, they're amazing. Okay. I'm sorry if I made any of you really upset (that was me over estimating my writing abilities). Bonsoir. xoxo


	5. Chapter 5

AN: I am writing this chapter in my school's library. I know, it's a Saturday. Believe it or not, I've been here since 6:30 AM. We're hosting a debate tournament. Anyways, writing in my school's library while running the extemporaneous speaking prep room is the only way I'd be able to post a chapter of The Fall before next weekend. **IMPORTANT!** This chapter strongly references the first and only chapter of my fic Always There. **Please read it first!** Here we go...

…

She kneeled on the floor.

"_Actually, I'm not sorry."_

Her hair was tied up, away from her face.

"_You're turning into a fucking skeleton, Blair."_

She put one hand on the side of the porcelain bowl, and wiped tears off her face with the other.

"_Making yourself throw up is just a slower suicide."_

Two fingers down her throat.

"_But the thing about suicide, is that you're not just killing yourself."_

When she was done, she laid on the floor, her cheek resting on the cool tile. She understood what he meant; that losing her would kill him. Maybe that's what would be best. They'd both win.

Two fingers down, two tears fall, two people die.

It wasn't even about weight anymore. It was all of her. All of her needed to be destroyed. This was simply the way she knew best.

Sappho said that the most beautiful sight on the earth was that of what you loved best.

What she failed to mention was that your most beautiful sight had the absolute power to ruin you.

"Ms. Blair!" Dorota called up the stairs. Blair picked her head up off the floor and groaned. On the inside, she was empty, and in the privacy of her bathroom, she was broken, but one step outside of that threshold, and she was Blair Cornelia Waldorf, Queen of Constance, and arguably, all of upper Manhattan. She was strong, and she was in control.

The morning purge had been her routine even since she starting going back to school, exactly 1 week now. Wake up, eat breakfast, throw up, lay on the floor tile for approximately 10 minutes (it would be longer if Dorota didn't call up the stairs at exactly 7:06 to ask why the water hadn't turned on for Blair's shower). She would then shower, make herself look impeccable, and walk to school with the energy of someone who, in fact, had eaten a proper breakfast.

"Miss Blair! Why is shower not on!?"

Blair picked herself off the floor. "Working on it, Dorota!" She called back. As she turned the shower on, she heard her phone buzz with a text message. It read:

**Heads up, C is going to be there today. You can do it. Love you. -S**

Chuck had been home for 3 days, but he wasn't supposed to be back at school until Monday. It was Wednesday. Blair went through the rest of her morning routine methodically, playing different situations of what would happen between them over and over. Before she knew it, she was walking up the sidewalk to Constance. Serena took a spot by her side, as they turned the corner into the courtyard.

He was in the middle of it all, standing on the steps with a crowd around him. Girls fawning over him, asking him if there was anything they could or telling him how handsome he was with the sling on his arm. The guys of St. Jude's were slapping him on the back. He was soaking it all up, winking, smirking, and batting his long eyelashes at the prettier girls.

Only Blair noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the 5 o'clock shadow that was on his jaw, even though it was only 8.

"You can do it, B. Just don't pay any attention to him." Serena whispered to her friend as they started up the stairs in the courtyard. They were about to reach the top when Blair cast a glance over her shoulder. She couldn't help it. He was staring up at her, his jaw clenched. When their eyes met, she felt warmth spread through her whole body. He swallowed, and she saw something flash in his hazel eyes. Longing? Lust? Love? She felt her lip tremble and tears fill her eyes before she turned her head back to what was in front of her. This was going to be a long day.

…

"I heard that he's, like, really nice now."

"Near death experiences do that to you, Iz" Kati rolled her eyes.

"I was told that he died for a few minutes, but then came back to life. Do you think that he, like, saw God?"

"Ladies! Can we please move our lunch discussion topic away from that of Chuck Bass? His accident happened two weeks ago." Blair addressed her minions from the her seat at on the MET steps.

"Have a heart, Blair. He could have died."

Blair's mouth was opening with a retort when Hazel burst out "Oh my god! He's heading towards us with Nate."

Blair turned to the direction of Hazel stare. Sure enough, the Basstard himself was walking their way with a certain golden boy at his side.

"Ladies," Chuck addressed them but was only looking at Blair. She felt goose bumps on her skin.

"Out so soon, Bass? I was sure they would have waited to be positive you weren't hooked on vicodin." Blair spit out, a smirk resting on her face.

"I thought prescription drugs were your thing." He shot back. Nate elbowed him, as Blair's mouth hung open. She heard Kati stifle a laugh, as Chuck continued.

"Anyways, I'm inviting you all to Butter tonight for dinner. Think of it as a little welcoming party. I do love to feel welcome."

"Chuck Bass doesn't do dinner." Blair rolled her eyes.

"What can I say, I'm a changed man." His mouth was set in a smirk, but his eyes were on Blair's face, pleading, begging.

"We'll be there!" Hazel spit out.

"Good," Chuck drawled out, his face softening, and his eyes never leaving Blair's. He turned and walked away with Nate.

Blair felt tears fill her eyes, but she turned to her minions and spoke. "Be fashionably late tonight. Nothing looks more desperate than arriving on time. I have to go study for British lit. Don't follow me." With that, she picked up her Celine tote and walked away.

…

They were at the largest table at Butter. Blair and her minions, Serena, a couple of lacrosse players, Nate, and of course Chuck were sitting around it, sipping martinis, munching on bruschetta and gossiping. It was the the most low-key event any of them had ever seen Chuck at, ever.

They were discussing the personal life of headmistress Queller (apparently her husband had just left her for a woman half her age), when Hazel leaned across the table towards Chuck. She put her hand on his arm, and spoke quietly. "Wanna go take a walk?"

Blair felt the blood drain from her face.

"Mmm, not now," Chuck put on a charming smile. "Our food will be out soon. Maybe later."

The gin and tomato was not sitting well in blair's stomach. She scooted her chair out from the table, and started to get up. "If you'll excuse me..."

Chuck recognized the look on her face. "Actually, Waldorf, I have I story I want you to hear." He pleaded with his eyes.

"Hmm," She put on a fake smile. "Maybe later." She picked up her bag and walked a little faster than normal to the ladies room.

He waited 3 minutes exactly before following her. He stood up from the table, buttoning his jacket. "I'll be right back..." He starred in the direction she had walked before following the path.

He knew she wouldn't have done it if there had been anyone else in the bathroom, so he felt confident walking in. As soon as he opened the door, he heard it: the retching. He locked the door behind him and leaned against the sinks as she finished.

He heard her start to cry, but she stayed like that. Kneeling on the floor and crying for a good five minutes. As she started to calm down, she stood and picked up her bag, unlocking the stall and swinging open the door. When she saw him right in front of her, her eyes hardened, and she stood up straighter.

"Following me to the ladies room, now? I would imagine there was some nurse to fuck in the hospital." She paused. "Oh right, you're waiting for Hazel. Who knew Chuck Bass would ever do a ginger."

He just stared at her, not responding, so she made her way to the sink next to him. She would have gotten there if her knees hadn't buckled due to her weakness. He caught her in his arms before she hit the ground.

"You need to stop." He whispered in her ear as he pulled her upright and even closer into his embrace.

She felt tears prick her eyes. "Why do you care?" She retorted, but she leaned more heavily on him, and laid her head on his chest. He kissed her hair and held her tighter. It was all they could do.

They stayed like that for a while before he asked to take her home. She said yes, so he led her through the kitchen and called a cab. He held her all the way there. When the car stopped outside, he spoke "I'm taking you inside. Someone has to tell Eleanor."

"Why?" She looked at him as a single tear fell onto her cheek. He cupped her face and wiped the tear away with his thumb.

"You know why." He kissed her forehead, and she saw that look again. It was love. They were deep and dark and twisted, but the love in his eyes was not.

…

AN: This chapter was a pain to write, and it really sucks, I know. It's now Sunday (even though I started on Saturday), and can I say, what a Sunday it has been. Any American readers out there that follow pro football? To give you a clue as to where I live in the US, my team played today. To narrow it down even further, we won. I was at musical rehearsal, and we all literally screamed when the final play happened. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though I hate it! xoxo


	6. Chapter 6

AN: One does feel quite content after reading a new chapter of Where's Waldorf's The Most Twisted Of Us. Hopefully that will make for a content chapter on my part! But let's get real here, this _is_ my angsty story, and this _is _Chuck and Blair, so contentment might not be on the menu. Only one way to find out...

P.S. I am extremely tired, but I feel obligated to write a chapter for your guys. I'm sorry for anything that shows my exhaustion.

…

Chuck Bass stood in the doorway of Blair Waldorf's room at the Ostroff Center. He had walked through the elevator at the start of visiting hours, 9 AM exactly. He knew she would have been asleep. Maybe that's why he came then. He had opened the heavy door and stepped inside, but he couldn't make himself move from that spot. She was just so vulnerable right now. Sleeping, and doing so in a bed at a haven for the disturbed and addicted. He was Chuck Bass. She was Blair Waldorf. Their walls were let down in the ladies room at Butter, but one step forward, two steps back, as the saying goes.

He decided sitting in one of the chairs by her bed would be his best bet, so he sat down, a block of lead forming in his stomach. He put down the bag of things he had brought, and he looked at her. She had kicked off her blankets in the night, revealing her black silk pajamas with white piping. She wasn't wearing socks, but her feet were stuffed under the sheets at the foot of the bed. Her legs were sprawled, but she was turned on her side, facing Chuck. She had one hand resting on her stomach and the other tucked under her cheek.

He saw that her face was hollow, and that her hair lacked its usual shine. He saw that her crimson nail polish was chipping, even though she had only been there two nights. He saw that she had a slight frown on her face, even in her sleep.

When the digital clock on the night table struck 9:30, the alarm went off. Chuck sat up with a start. Blair, without opening her eyes, rolled over and buried her head under the pillow. Chuck turned the alarm off and pulled his chair closer to her bed. He put his hand under her pajama shirt and started to rub her back. She groaned and rolled over again, his hand now resting on her stomach. She blinked up at him a few times before gathering her surroundings. Realization flooded into her eyes, but she made no move.

"You're here to visit me?" Her voice was thick with sleep. Chuck nodded. She looked down to the bag at his feet, seeing that it was filled with DVD's and books. "Planning on staying the whole day?" She sarcastically remarked.

His face stayed impassive, but he let out a small, "yes."

Blair nodded, accepting it. "Okay, well then I should probably go get dressed." She eyed his hand under her shirt, and he pulled it out. She sat up in bed, swinging her feet over the side. She sat there, looking at him.

"Do you want to...?" He softly spoke, trailing off. She understood what he meant, though, and she got up from the bed to go sit in his awaiting arms. It was very much like you would hold a child. She was curled up in the fetal position, head resting on his neck. Both of his arms were wrapped around her. They felt whole this way, without space and words unsaid between them. No words were needed at that moment. The way his right hand traced up and down her arm was enough. They were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

"Ms. Blair! Breakfast!" A nurse called from the hall. Chuck dropped his arms, and Blair snapped her head up. She stood up and opened the door, not smiling as the nurse handed her her meal. She placed the tray on the table by the chair and climbed back onto Chuck's lap. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Chuck whispered to her.

"You need to eat..." Blair didn't respond, only nestling herself tighter against Chuck's body. "Blair." His voice was harder. "Get up." He let go of her, and she got up to stand in front of him.

She glared. "I'm going to take a shower. You can go." Her voice was cold.

"Try not to drown yourself while you're in there." He stood up, meeting her face on.

Blair felt her resolve crumble, and a dry sob escaped her chest. Chucks eyes softened. He saw Blair's lip tremble, but she kept the stone hard look on her face. He reached his hand out to her forehead, smoothing out the frown wrinkles that had formed there. Blair felt two tears fall down her cheeks at the gesture. He wiped them away with his thumb, and she closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She quickly muttered, turning away from him and walking to the bathroom, where she closed the door behind her.

The thing about doors at mental institutions is that they don't have locks. After he heard the water turn on, and he was sure she was in, Chuck walked into the bathroom. He closed the door and sat on the cool tile, his back against the door. If she was showering at a place where she didn't have adequate moisturizer, Blair would deny herself the pleasure of a hot shower, as to keep her skin from drying out, so when she stepped out of the stall with a beige towel wrapped around her middle, she was shivering.

"I can help you warm up, kitten." While she was showering, Chuck decided being his good old self would be the best approach to this situation.

Blair jumped a bit and looked at him. "I thought you left..."

"And leave you naked next door? That would be an outrage."

She scowled. "I like comforting Chuck better. If you're going to be perverse, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Again." She turned to face the sink and mirror, scrutinizing her person, still dripping wet and shivering.

Chuck stood up. "I brought Charade and The Age Of Innocence. Going once... going twice..."

"Let me get dressed first." She half smiled at him.

Chuck nodded and opened the door to leave the bathroom.

…

AN: This was a filler chapter just to give you an idea of where Chuck and Blair stand at this point in the story. The next few chapters will be much longer and have a lot more going on. Sorry it took me so long to update! xoxo


	7. Chapter 7

AN: I feel so bad about my lack of updates. I have simply been SO busy. You can't even imagine... Oh well. You don't deserve my excuses, you deserve a chapter. Here we go...

…

Her routine was as follows: wake up in his arms, eat breakfast, shower, watch a movie with him, attend her one hour therapy session, eat lunch, take a nap with him, play a game of Scrabble, watch another movie, eat dinner, watch a third film, and then go to sleep alone. He wasn't allowed to stay after 9 PM, but he did always manage to slip in before she awoke the next morning.

Excluding the her first day there, each had gone like this. It was routine. It was expected. It was comfortable. But today was her last, and what roles would they assume when she was released into the real world? When they were forced to leave their perfect routine, where they knew all the steps to the fragile dance they were a part of. What would happen?

She awoke, as per usual, spooning with him. Blair was the little spoon, of course, and this morning, Chuck had slipped under the sheets and comfortor with her. He had taken to dressing down when seeing her, wearing khakis, a button down, and a sweater. Manhattan Januarys are unforgiving. One of his Ralph Lauren clad arms was draped over her torso, and his pressed pants moved well against her silk pajama set. He felt her stir, and he kissed her hair, taking in her sent. He whispered "Good morning, beautiful."

Blair blinked away the sleep from her eyes and smiled to herself before turning to him. She spoke a small "Hi," before curling up against his chest. He reached his hand under her shirt to stroke the outline of her spine. His touch was feather light, those callous tipped fingers of his strong and soft hand. She shivered.

"You should eat. I have a big day planned." Chuck spoke into her hair.

She sighed. "And by big day do you mean the exact same things we've done all week?"

"Yes, but this time I'm going to beat you in Scrabble." He smiled.

Blair pulled her head up to look at him. His face was so close that she couldn't focus on his eyes. "You can try." She flashed a classic Blair Waldorf smirk before quickly untangling herself from him. She jumped out of the bed, grabbed a muffin off the tray on the table, and raced to the bathroom, raising her eyebrows at him suggestively before slamming the door shut. Chuck heard the water start immediately. He fell back on the beige feather pillows and rubbed his face, trying to keep a full-blown grin from forming. Blair Cornelia Waldorf would be the death of him.

…

Blair emerged half an hour later. Chuck was still laying on the bed, but he sat up to look at her. Her hair was blown out, falling in perfect and large curls with an oxblood headband holding her hair off her face. Her skin looked more fair than usual against the cashmere, cream, v-neck sweater she was wearing. A pair of dark wash skinny jeans were hugging her hips, and she had minimal makeup on. In fact, all Chuck could see was a little bit of lip gloss. She was barefoot. She was stunning.

"I still can't get over the fact that Blair Waldorf owns jeans." Chuck smirked from his perch on the bed.

She climbed onto the bed and sat opposite him. "Well I'm not going to lounge around in my Constance uniform..."

He leaned towards her. "Hmm, that might be fun. A little dirty schoolgirl every now and again is healthy."

She rolled her eyes and sat up, increasing the distance between them. Remarks like these are common and expected from Chuck Bass, yet this entire time, he had not tried any actual advances on her. Blair couldn't tell if she was grateful or not... She imagined him tearing the cashmere off her back and taking her right then. "So what are we watching this morning?" Blair spoke, riding her mind of dirty images of her and Chuck.

"Beauty and the Beast." He smiled at her.

"Really, Bass? Disney?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"I have a soft spot for Angela Lansbury."

Blair giggled. "That is something I never thought I would hear come out of your mouth..."

"Do you not want to watch it?" He asked hesitantly.

"No, of course I do!"

"Good." Chuck smiled and cupped her cheek. He leaned in, and placed a feather light kiss by her temple. He turned quickly, after, getting off the bed to grab his MacBook and put the DVD in. Blair was left sitting on the bed, touching the spot on her head where his lips had been. A faint smile played at her mouth.

He climbed back onto the bed, putting the laptop beside him and opening his arms, motioning for her come sit with him. She took her place next to him, half resting on his torso, with his arms holding her middle. This was home.

During the entire first half of the film, Blair watched intently, blissed out in Chuck's arms. It wasn't until she heard the words of Something There, that she realized why the storyline was so familiar. It was them. It was all them. Granted, they shared the role of the Beast sometimes, but the story was theirs. Chuck must have realized this too because his hold on her tightened the moment she saw the resemblance.

Belle ascended the steps in her golden ball gown, and Chuck whispered to Blair. "Wanna dance?"

Blair said nothing, but climbed off the bed. Chuck followed. He held her waist and her hand. She placed a hand on his back. Their bodies were pressed together as Ms. Lansbury started to sing. It wasn't the dance of the Upper East Side, the waltzes they would do during cotillion or at the Snowflake Ball. It was the dance of two people in love. Two people so in love that they couldn't successfully admit it to each other. Chuck and Blair dancing in socked feet on the carpeted, medicinal smelling floors of the Ostroff Center. It was all they could do.

When the song ended, Chuck wrapped both his arms around her. She laid her cheek on his chest, and they just stood like that until a knock at the door interrupted them. "Ms. Waldorf! Your doctor is waiting."

Blair lifted her head off Chuck's shoulder. "I'm coming!" Chuck's arms dropped and Blair straightened up. "Will you be here when I get back?" She whispered.

"Of course." His eyes were smoldering. And that mouth... It was the perfect shape. Blair snapped her mouth shut, realising that she had been staring. Fortunately, Chuck didn't drop a 'like-what-you-see?'. Maybe he had been staring too.

…

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Blair spoke to her doctor, ate lunch, beat Chuck in Scrabble, and took a nap. It wasn't until after her dinner with him that the routine was broken.

"No movie tonight? Wow, Bass. I took it that you had this whole day planned out." She smirked at him.

His eyes were hard and dark.

"Are you going now?" Worry crept into her voice.

"Blair..." His voice had an edge. She felt a blush creep up on her cheeks. That tone of his always did that to her. It was both his "let's fuck now" voice and his "we will never work out" voice.

"I mean, you can..." She dropped her head, hiding her disappointment.

"Blair." He held her face in both hands and she looked up. His eyes were pleading. She opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. She leaned her face towards his, but he was the one to finally close the distance.

Their lips met, and the sparks flew. They barely touched at first, but Blair pressed closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. He took his hands off his face and wrapped them around her waist, bringing her body flush against his. Chuck broke off the contact with their mouths, and started kissing along her jaw and neck. Blair grabbed the hair at the base of his neck and bit her lip. As his mouth was working magic on her neck, his hands were exploring under her sweater. Those hands that could wrap around her waist easily. He stopped kissing her to lift her sweater of her head. She laid back against the pillows and leaned over her, joined their mouths once again.

He lifted his head abruptly, breaking off the kiss. "Blair..."

She opened her eyes, and confusion washed over her face. "Yes?" Her voice was small.

"We shouldn't do this now."

"What?"

"I'll see you tomorrow." He left a feather light kiss on her forehead before getting off the bed and making it out the door in 3 strides, leaving Blair alone and topless.

Funny how things work like that.

…

AN: Okay you y'all were probably like "Oh no! Another filler with no advancement to the plot!" But then you read the last couple paragraphs, and taDAH! Plot advancements! This story is almost over, but I'm sorry to say, my dears, we most definitely haven't reached the climax. Love you guuuuuuuys.

P.S. If you want me to continue this story forever after their happily ever after happens, let me know.

P.P.S. If you want less watered down kissing/smut, head over to my fluff fic, Picture Perfect. There's one chapter so far that gets pretty down if you know what I mean...


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Here it is. If enough people hate it, I'll write an alternative ending.

...

**Six months later**

They both thought the other was asleep. Although he usually was most rested in her arms, he was remembering. Remembering that the bare stomach pressed against his back was subject to the worst convulsions when she made herself throw up. He remembered that the fingers belonging to the hand draped over his side used to cause her to purge.

She remembered to, as the scars on his back from his surgery pressed onto her stomach and bare breasts. That the neck she was nuzzling had once hit the concrete with a startling thud.

They remembered a lot, although usually privately. Even though they had made it, it still hurt sometimes.

But yes, they made it.

They survived the fall.

Chuck turned to face Blair, a little surprised to see that her eyes were open.

"I love you." He whispered.

She lightly kissed him, a smile in her eyes. "I love you too."

...

AN: Again, if you hate it, I'll write another ending. xoxo


End file.
